


arcadian

by tisapear



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Day 1, Dreamscapes, Dreamsharing, F/F, Missing Scene, aertiweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/pseuds/tisapear
Summary: "Is this a dream?""Why don't you tell me? Do you always dream about pretty girls cast in moonlight?"
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	arcadian

Marlene, asleep in the bed, puffy little exhales. Tifa's own hands as she carefully arranges the covers from her side over the little girl's form, smooths them out with the palm of her hand. The door, silently squeaks, _oh, no,_ opens it wider, _careful_ , doesn't close it, would be too risky; her steps on the stairs, thank the gods, they don't creak. 

Balcony, just another opening of another door—gentle breeze, tousling her hair. A glimpse of pink, a slender neck, that familiar braid, andalusite cascading down a straight back. 

_"Oh,"_ Tifa whispers, closes the door behind her. Leans against it— _falls_ , really, her limbs suddenly feeling like lead. Doesn't think she could hold herself up on her own. 

Blinks, quickly, adjusts to the darkness, stars twinkling above, backlit moonshine. Shadows turning into an actual image, a vague figure becoming solid. 

A neck twisting, the braid moving along, resting on the railing. Looks over her shoulder, _ah_ , there it is: that gently teasing smile. Rose quartz lips, mischievous cat eyes, emerald glint. 

"Is this a dream?" 

"Mhm, I don't know." Can hear fingernails clacking against the wooden rail, smile gets more playful. A smirk, a dollop wicked. "Why don't you tell me? Do you always dream about pretty girls cast in moonlight?" 

A blush, she can't help it, she's not used to being teased, not by anyone but Jessie—

Stone from her chest, feels like someone flicked it off, just like that. _Shoo,_ why did she feel sad again? 

"I-I mean—" A laugh, bells ringing in the air. 

"Aw, no need to be embarrassed. I was just teasing." Fully turns around, back resting against the railing. Stretches her arms above her head, lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Dream or no dream, the fresh air feels nice, doesn't it?" Inhales loudly, chest moving, obvious even in the barely-there light. 

Tifa mimics her. Aerith's right. Feels nice, cool air in her lungs, caressing her sleep-warmed skin. Just a dream, but doesn't mean she can't enjoy it; is probably why she should enjoy it in the first place, last great reprieve before the big battle. 

"We're not gonna leave you, you know? We're gonna get you out of there."

Aerith doesn't lose her smile, but it seems softer, now. Steps closer, her fingers running down Tifa's naked arm like pitter-patter spring rain. "Oh," a quiet exhale, "never doubted it. I'm not really sure if you should bother, though." 

Catches those fleeting fingers in her own bare ones, seems the dream knew her gloves would only be a hindrance. Stares at them, soft and warm, pink diamond nails. Expects them to become translucent under her firm grip.

Wonders when they don't. 

"Don't be stupid. We all want you back–even Cloud, _even Barret_. He... we... _I_... still have to thank you for everything that you've done."

The other hand, cups her cheek, eyes so dark and earnest. "Don't be silly, I haven't done anything." 

Words out of her mouth, doesn't even realize they've been resting on her tongue, "Maybe you just don't realize what you've already done since you're always so focused on the things you still have to do."

A hitch, the hand on her cheek goes stiff. Can sense Aerith's guard going up, the way she's angling her body to move backwards—

Places a hand over Aerith's, keeps it in place, _no, don't go_." Don't, I—I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, I don't know what came over me—"

Eyes lose their wariness, so gentle and trusting again. "No... don't worry. You're... you're probably right," she admits, nails lightly scratching the soft of Tifa's cheek. Sends shivers down her spine. Doesn't feel invasive, though, not too close, too intimate; feels _right_ , like something long since destined. 

You, me, and the tranquility of the night, she thinks. 

Fairy-laugh. "And the flowers," Aerith reminds, pulls her forward by the hand still gripping her own, points beyond the railing. So pretty, Aerith's giant garden of words, the moonlit lake and dancing flowers, fireflies making their ways, heedless of the troubled humans watching them. 

"You're right," Tifa says quietly, eyes fixed on the calming display. Mother Nature's gift, _Sector 5 Slum's oasis_ , she's heard people call it. She has to agree. 

She wonders if Aerith's planted every flower on her own, raised them with those gentle hands of hers. Must be nice, to be cared for by someone like her. 

Such a good mother. 

"People keep calling me that," Aerith murmurs, lips almost pressed against Tifa's ear, "yet I still don't understand why." 

Tifa thinks of Cloud, the way he easily opened up to Aerith, the way he tries harder now, with Tifa, with Barret, with people he's never met before. "You decide to take care of people, just like that, even when they don't want you to. Maybe especially when they don't want you to."

"Hm, hm, that certainly sounds like something I would do. I do so love doing contrary to people's demands." 

Gaze gets caught by those words, away from the flowers dancing under starlight twinkling and back to laughing eyes. Thinks, lips pursed, fingers tightly holding onto the railing. "No, that's not it. You do what's in people's hearts—initial rejections, pushing people away for their own sake... you don't mind those baseless fears, push on ahead anyways. Break through people's walls. Because that's just what you do. It's… what you've always done…"

A finger under her chin, tips the thing up. Oh, didn't even notice her head tilting downwards. 

Aerith's face, the smile on her face so bittersweet as she swipes a thumb over Tifa's bottom lip. "Ah, you never change, do you?" 

Leans forward, sweet breath, two inhales. 

Ah—her face, so… close….

"Then again, if you did, you wouldn't be the Tifa I love so much."

Sits up in bed, gently caresses her lips; two fingers, just the tips. 

Phantom memory of a butterfly-touch.

**Author's Note:**

> September 20: jewel tones | favorite scene or moment | missing scenes | _arcadian_ : idyllically innocent, simple and untroubled by fear or worry


End file.
